


confuse my tongue with your tombstone

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: Love and Other Fairytales [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: A little angst, M/M, Magic, Spiders, a little seasoning of angst, fairytale curses, fumbling middle school crushes, just a smattering, please picture me chucking this at you while screeching and then running away, the wild hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Run, run, run, as fast as you can...





	confuse my tongue with your tombstone

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from I Won't Write Your Obituary by Nora Cooper

“Patton, the apples are for the  _pie_ ,” Logan sighed.

“I know that!” Patton protested, hiding the half-munched apple behind him.

“Let him go, it’s not like he can eat all of them,” Roman laughed, “We have a whole bucket,”

They did indeed, have a whole 5 gallon bucket of green apples sitting in the back of Roman’s battered wooden wagon. The three of them were making their way down one of the dirt roads that surrounded Wickhills, from Roman’s house to Patton’s.

Mamaw had agreed to give up some of her apples – which Patton and Roman delighted in calling “Granny Gage” apples, much to Logan’s chagrin – so Patton’s dad could make pies for the farmer’s market tomorrow. In return, Mamaw was getting some of Mrs. Waller’s goat cheese.

Mamaw and Patton’s parents both seemed to think they were pulling the wool over each other’s eyes. Roman and Patton were very amused, seeing as they knew their respective guardians had more apples and cheese than they knew what to do with.

“It’s the principle of the thing. This is a transaction, not a leisure walk,”

Roman rolled his eyes fondly. Logan was taking their assigned task of transporting aforementioned goods entirely too seriously.

The sun did seem to be setting a little quicker than Roman thought it ought to. He didn’t have a watch, but he did have Logan.

“What time is it?”

“6:32 PM,” said Logan automatically, and then he turned and gave Roman an exasperated look.

“You know I hate it when you do that,”

“It’s just me and Patton, Nicolaus Complainicus. And besides, always knowing exactly what time it is? Is the  _least_  spooky of your parlor tricks,”

“You could wear a watch?” Patton suggested, “So people’d just think you checked it,”

Logan wrinkled his nose.

“I tried that. I could not find a suitable watch band that was not, um,” he raised his arms and made air quotes, “‘Sensory hell,’”

“Is that one of the vocab words?” ribbed Roman.

“Must you mock me so relentlessly?”

“Roman, if you pick on him he might not tell us more about the high school!” Patton said pointedly.

Roman immediately felt sheepish.

“Yes, you never did finish,”

Logan huffed, but he was still smiling, so Roman didn’t feel like he was too put out.

“I told, you its exactly the same as the middle school, just bigger. And I’m not  _in_ high school,”

“Yes, yes, you’ve told us, you only take science at the high school, you’re still a seventh grader, et cetera, et cetera,” Roman groaned, “We’re going to be there next year, Logan, cut us some slack.”

“For goodness sake; we all go to school on the same campus! The divisions of the grades are  _entirely_  arbitrary,”

“I didn’t think there were that many trees on the school grounds,” said Patton thoughtfully.

Roman looked over curiously and Logan looked baffled.

“Trees?” he said.

Patton couldn’t keep a straight face. “Y’know. Arbor-atory?”

“Pffffft-”

“Oh come  _on!”_

Roman had to pause pulling the wagon, resting one hand on his knee. The best part of Patton’s puns was always Logan’s indignant sputtering afterwards.

He looked up at the treeline, which was looking… well, it looked very golden, for six-thirty.

He began to feel a little apprehensive.

“Logan; what time is it?”

“7:19 PM – damn it, Roman, I told yo-”

And then he seemed to hear what he’d said.

“We have not been walking for forty-five minutes,” he said.

The smile dropped from Patton’s face.

“How long  _have_  we been walking?”

“Eleven minutes,” said Logan, “A little more than four times dilation,”

“Can we make it to Patton’s?”

Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“If the rate holds and we hurry, yes,”

“C’mon,”

They kept walking, far more quickly than before. Patton fell in step beside Roman and hesitantly took the hand that wasn’t pulling the wagon. Roman instantly squeezed back.

As the sky edged from gold to orange, Roman looked at Logan.

“Time?”

“7:26. We aren’t going to make it,”

“What’s the moon phase?” said Patton anxiously.

“Waning gibbous,” Roman answered before Logan could, “It’s not full or new, so no revel. So why-?”

Pale movement came in the corner of his vision and Roman jerked his head towards it.

A dozen or more white rodents were scurrying across their path, headed off into the woods.

“Mine rats,” he said, “ _Shit_ ,”

“It is most likely a prank meant to alarm us,” said Logan, but he was talking so quickly it was clear he didn’t believe it himself. “If the moon is not full or new there is no reason the sunset should be particularly dangerous-”

They couldn’t actually see when the sun went past the horizon, but they all knew the moment it happened.

The call of a horn broke through the air.

“Wild hunt,” said Roman, “Run,”

“We can’t outrun them-” Patton whispered desperately.

“Don’t argue, just  _run!_ ” snapped Roman. He grabbed Logan’s sleeve and dragged both of them into the underbrush.

No time to worry about stealth; no time to worry about anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

Patton and Logan weren’t used to running, and it was obvious. Patton’s feet seem to catch and stumble on every rock and tree branch. Roman resorted to lifting him bodily over the worst if it.

Logan was only a little better. The horn calls were getting louder; there were dogs howling in the distance.

The pounding of their feet; heavy breathes hissing through their teeth. Roman could hear Patton’s voice hitching, on the edge of a sob.

The impact of Roman’s feet hitting the ground send sparks of pain up his legs. Patton stumbled again, pitching face first towards the dirt and Roman seized him around the ribs and lifted him back to standing.

“Where… are we going?” Patton huffed.

“Don’t know,” said Roman, “Following the rats,”

“Have you done this before?” said Logan, glancing back over his shoulder.

“ _Don’t_ look back!” Roman snapped, yanking on the sleeve still in his hand, “And no, if I did I’d be  _dead_ , genius,”

“Not comforting!”

More dogs; and the faintest of hoof beats thudding across the forest floor. Roman’s chest and legs were burning. Patton’s strained breaths were quickly becoming wheezes.

_We’re not going to make it._

Roman shoved the thought away. He’d fight the whole hunt with his bare hands if he had to. They couldn’t have Patton and Logan. They couldn’t have his friends.

They burst through the treeline, and there were the rats, diving into the river. The hunt wouldn’t be able to cross the running water.

Roman took one step down the bank, then another, and then stopped cold.

Fae couldn’t cross running water.

Roman turned and looked at Logan, his stomach dropping like a stone.

“Go,” said Logan, “They probably won’t-”

Logan choked on the words, like someone had squeezed him around the throat. He couldn’t say anything he didn’t believe. He couldn’t lie to them.

Voices now, bloodthirsty and inhuman, raised in feverish excitement. But the din of baying hounds and thumping hooves; none of them were louder than Roman’s own heartbeat.

“No,” he said, and Patton, even though he couldn’t seem to talk around his obviously constricting lungs, lunged forward and gripped Logan’s hand like a vice.

“I have an idea,” said Roman.

_An_  idea, just the one. It probably wouldn’t work, but he couldn’t tell them that.

He took off down the bank, running parallel to the river. The path was even more treacherous here, mud and slick and soft earth.

When a bend came, he kept running straight, directly into the heart of the forest.

_Please work, please, please, please._

He thought as hard as he could of the fairy prince, the perfect clearing – the casket of crystal and the soft grass beneath it. A place he’d hidden in from faeries in a dozen times.

But he’d never brought anyone with him – nobody else had ever gotten in but Dizzy.

“Roman, we’re going in circles,” Logan said desperately.

“Come  _on_ ,”

They took a turn, and Roman saw it.

But the dogs were close enough Roman could hear their snapping teeth, snarling and vicious, surrounding them, bearing down on them like a tidal wave waiting to dash them against the rocks and tear them to shreds.

Roman reached back and took Logan’s hand from Patton, gripping them both and thinking only of bringing them with him, because if he stepped into the clearing and found himself alone he was sure it would kill him.

He focused on the pale clearing, wished with all his might, and dragged them out of the trees.

* * *

One second Roman was leading them through pitch black forest, and the next they were in open air.

Roman hit the ground instantly, and Patton, who still had his hand in a death grip, fell right along with him.

“Why did we… stop?”

Logan’s voice trailed off. Patton spared a moment to echo the thought, but his attention was mostly taken up by the pressure in his chest.

_Stay calm, stay calm._

The order was crammed right up against the back of his teeth, but he couldn’t  _tell_  himself anything right now – Roman and Logan were too close, they might hear him. Patton sat back on his heels, trying and failing miserably to breathe.

“Where’s- Patton, where’s your inhaler?”

Roman’s voice was strained, like he was in pain. Patton tried to ask what was wrong but he only made a choked off noise that morphed into a hacking cough.

He shook his head. He’d tried to use the inhaler while they were running – stupid,  _stupid_ , what was he thinking – and had dropped it.

“Hold on,” said Roman, scrambling up from the ground. He left Patton’s line of sight.

Patton quickly glanced around.

They were in a circle of cleared woods. There was something big, shiny and about hip-high in the center. Logan’s was looking at it, curious and a little awed. Roman was on the other side, pulling up fistfuls of some kind of plant.

Oh, yeah.

And the entire clearing was  _covered_  in spiderwebs.

Patton hunched in on himself.

“S-stay-”  _wheeze,_ “-calm,” he whispered.

He relaxed, but not by much. He needed to do it a few times to really get it to stick, but Roman was already hurrying back towards him.

“Here, it’s mint,” said Roman, “Crush it in your hands, like this,”

Roman cupped Patton’s hands and guided them through smushing the plants. He then pushed them up, pressing Patton’s own hands over his nose and his mouth.

“Now breathe,”

Patton did. It was almost like vaporub, but more.. plant-y, he guessed. Cool air filled his lungs.

They sat like that, Patton breathing deeply through the mint and Roman, with his hands cupping Patton’s and watching him anxiously.

After a minute or two, Patton felt a little better. His chest was still tight, but he didn’t feel like someone had wrapped a band of steel around his lungs.

“Thanks,” he croaked.

“No problem, Wheezing Beauty,” Roman laughed.

Patton cleared his throat. “Where are we?”

Roman turned weirdly pink.

“This is, um. Where the Fairy Prince sleeps. I knew they wouldn’t be able to get in here,”

Patton tilted his head curiously.

“I didn’t know the-” he coughed again, “I didn’t know The Court had a prince?”

Roman flushed deeper.

“Well, I- I don’t really  _know_  if he’s a prince, he just- c’mere, I’ll show you,”

Roman helped Patton to his feet, then led him over to the shiny shape in the center.

Logan was till standing over it, his head tilted and a strange expression on his face.

Patton followed his eyes, and when he looked into the casket he couldn’t help but gasp.

There was a sleeping boy in it, with black hair and pale skin; he had a fine, deep purple shirt on and silver rings on his fingers. His ears were pointed, sharp as knives, and he was so handsome he didn’t seem real. He looked like a painting, or like he’d been cast from silver.

“See what I mean?” said Roman.

“Definitely a prince,” Patton agreed, awed.

This was normally where Logan would say something about them jumping to conclusions. But when Patton looked at him, Logan still hadn’t even moved.

“Logan? What’s wrong?”

Logan shook himself, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I, um,” he coughed again, “I’ve- I have never been… this close to another, uh, fae, before,”

“… And… what do you think?” said Roman hesitantly.

Logan laughed, just a short huff.

“I am… comforted, I suppose. I-” he cleared his throat and smiled a little wryly, “Well, I always thought myself to be a sort of… uncanny parody of Thomas. But it is now obvious to me that I look quite mundane by supernatural standards,”

Roman snorted.

“He’s always looked like that,” said Roman, “He’s been here for years,”

“How many?” said Patton.

Roman shrugged, sitting down by the fairy’s head and gently brushing a few of the spiders away from his face. Patton shuddered and pressed closer to Logan.

“A very long time. Mamaw knows about him; she says he’s been here since before she was born,”

“Do you know what happened to him?” said Logan. He sat as well, and Patton’s skin was crawling with nerves at all the spindly little creatures around them. But the order was still staving off the worst of his fear; he sat next to Logan and tried not to basically climb on top of him.

“No. Well, maybe,” He amended. “Mamaw tells me stories. But they’re never the same. I don’t know which ones are true, or if any of them are,”

“Could you tell us some?” said Patton.

Roman shrugged, and then he looked down at the fairy. His hand continued to draw patterns in the lid.

“Sometimes, she says he was a shadow. He was brought to life when a human gave him a heart, but the Serpent King stole the heart and locked it away. And now he sleeps until someone can steal it back and return it to him,”

“In another story, a witch cursed him. She hid seeds in his food; poppies, hyacinth, and roses. They bloomed in his chest; the hyacinth poisoned him, the thorns choked him, and the poppies put him to sleep,”

Roman leaned his head against the clear case.

“Sometimes the story says the glass is made of tears; sometimes its spun from moonbeams. Sometimes he’s the rightful prince of the forest, sometimes he’s a solitary fairy who hates The Court. Sometimes the sleep is permanent and sometimes it’s not, and the rules for breaking it are always different,” he snorted. “When I was younger she would tell me the way to break the curse was to do my chores, but I caught on pretty quickly,”

“True love’s kiss, a thousand witch hazel flowers, a cloak made of starlight, counting to infinity, catching a rainbow,” Roman shook his head.

Patton’s chest ached. For just a moment, Roman had looked impossibly, heartbreakingly sad.

“I’ve tried everything I could think of,” said Roman quietly, “Even offered to switch places with him, you know that works sometimes. But nothing. He never moves,”

He smiled bitterly.

“I don’t even know if he’s actually alive,” he concluded, “He might be a preserved body for all I know, and I’ve been wasting my time,”

“You’re not,” Patton blurted.

Roman lifted his head from the glass.

“Why do you think so?” said Roman, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Patton’s face heated up and he looked away, into the faceted glass.

“Even if you’re… too late, I guess, and he  _is_  dead – it’s never a waste of time to try and save someone,”

Roman smiled, wide and bright, and Patton’s heart swelled with affection.

“I’m sure he would appreciate your efforts,” said Logan. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the casket.

“That  _is_  very strange,” he said thoughtfully, “It’s certainly not glass, but it’s much clearer than crystal,”

“Are you going to science him out of his curse?” Roman grinned fondly.

“I am merely commenting,” Logan muttered.

“And the um-” Patton cleared his throat and scooted closer to Logan again; it was a wonder the other boy wasn’t complaining. “The spiders?”

“Oh, those,” Roman leaned down and – oh,  _gee_ , he picked it  _up_.

Patton covered his mouth to muffle his shriek.

“They’re always here,” said Roman, letting the creepy little thing run over his hands, “I’ve never seen them anywhere else either, they’re a strange kind, look,”

He held his hand towards them.

The order finally gave out.

Patton screeched and dove behind Logan.

“Whoa!”

“Patton, are you alright?” Logan exclaimed.

“Creepy- crawly death-dealers, with their freaky spindly little pointy scuttly legs-” Patton said, and he could feel himself getting more and more freaked out.

“Hey, no, you didn’t let me finish!” said Roman, “They’re not normal spiders, Patton, they’re magic,”

Patton peeked over Logan’s shoulder.

“Magic spiders?” he said, dubious.

“Yeah, they’re smart,” Roman said, “Look,”

He held it up to his face.

“Hello, miss,”

The spider – which Patton could now see a bit clearer, and it definitely wasn’t any kind of spider he’d seen before – quivered. Patton watched it closely.

And then she lifted one of her iridescent little legs and, unmistakably, waved at Roman.

“Remarkable,” said Logan, “May I?”

Logan held out a palm next to Roman’s. The spider picked her way across the hills and valley’s of Roman’s hand and into Logan’s.

“Salutations,” he said, “My name is Logan, and this is Patton. We are friends of Roman’s,”

The spider didn’t move, and for a moment Patton wondered if he’d imagined it, but then she did it again – moved her little head with it’s eight tiny black eyes to look right up at him and wave a single leg in his direction.

“Uh,” he said, his voice still a little shaky, “H-hello,”

He waved back.

She did a little spin, and that startled a giggle out of him. She looked like a tiny oil spill in Logan’s hand, or a living fragment of opal.

She wiggled her whole body, and then turned and hopped from Logan’s hand onto the casket. She crawled up and settled near the fairy’s face.

“They do that a lot,” said Roman, “Look into the casket. I think they know him, but it’s hard to ask them questions they can answer,”

The spider tapped the case in a forlorn way, and Patton felt his heart break.

“She looks so sad,” he said quietly.

They fell quiet. The stars were out now, and the sunset was long gone.

“We’ll have to wait until the sun comes up to leave,” said Roman after a few minutes of silence.

“Our parents are gonna be so worried,” said Patton.

“Nothing to be done about it,” said Logan, “Although this might be enough to make my parents amend their stance of ‘No phones until high school,’”

“Silver linings,” laughed Roman.

They shuffled into as comfortable positions as they could – at least the grass was dense and the dirt pretty soft.

Roman rapped his knuckled on top of the casket.

“Goodnight, fairy. Night, Patton, Logan,”

Patton smiled fondly.

“Goodnight, Roman, Logan. Goodnight, fairy,”

They turned and looked at Logan expectantly.

Logan sighed.

“Goodnight, Roman, Goodnight Patton,” he huffed once more, “Goodnight, fairy,”

Patton grinned.

* * *

Logan always woke up very suddenly.

He didn’t know if it was a changeling trait or merely unique to him specifically, but once he was awake, that was it. Attempting to sleep in or lay back down was always futile.

However.

Well, he was strangely not inclined to move, at the moment.

When he’d opened his eyes, the first thing he’d seen had been Patton and Roman, which on it’s own was already quite odd. Then he remembered the previous night, and the refuge they’d taken from the wild hunt.

Logan shuddered at the memory. Normally it was impossible to forget what he was, with the way people looked at him and the strange ticks he had to maneuver day-to-day life. But last night, with the hunt bearing down on them?

Well, he’d certainly felt human  _then_.

He would never admit it, but he had thought, for just a moment, that Roman and Patton were going to leave him on the riverbank. At the time, he’d told himself it was the logical choice, and that it was foolish for all of them to perish for his sake.

He would also never admit the relief he’d felt when they’d refused to do it.

He’d also felt something else – some nebulous, undefinable emotion that burned and made his hands shake. He felt it now, again.

They had all moved closer in their sleep, which made sense seeing as they had no blankets. Patton was in the center, his head resting on Roman’s chest, and Roman had his arms wrapped around him.

Logan himself was crowded against Patton; he’d woken up with his face buried in Patton’s hair. Roman’s arm was curled around Patton but he was holding Logan’s hand, both their knuckles brushing Patton’s back.

It was… very nice. Very  _strangely_ nice, as Logan wasn’t normally one for prolonged physical contact.

He wasn’t sure what to do. While he hadn’t yet identified the source of his stance, he undeniably did not  _want_  to move. But for some reason just the thought of Patton or Roman waking up and seeing him – well, there really was no other word for it –  _cuddling_ , made him feel profoundly embarrassed.

He shifted, testing Roman’s grip. If he just slipped his hand off-

He did not count on Roman being similarly prone to sudden waking.

Roman shot up, Squeezing Logan’s hand in a death grip and looking around wildly, like he-

Like he was being chased.

“Roman, everything is fine,” he said, “We got away, remember?”

Roman gasped a few more times, looking down at Logan and Patton. Logan wondered if he’d been just as scared last night, when he’d seemed so sure of himself.

“Right,” said Roman, voice cracking.

Patton groaned, turning over. He rolled basically on top of Logan, and Logan felt his face heat up, but Patton either didn’t notice or was too tired to care.

“S’it mornin’?” he asked thickly.

“Yep, rise and shine,” said Roman quickly, dropping Logan’s hand and rolling to his feet.

“Should probably let someone know we’re not dead,” he said.

Patton took another couple minutes to really wake up, and then before they left he insisted on saying goodbye to the boy in the casket.

“Do you think we could come back to see him sometimes, Roman?”

Roman hesitated for a fraction of a moment – quick enough that Logan didn’t think Patton noticed – but then smiled and nodded.

“He’d probably love to hang out with more people than just me and Dizzy,” Roman said.

Roman held onto them as they stepped out of the clearing – “just in case,”– and when they were out, Logan was glad he had. When Logan had turned, he had seen nothing behind them but more trees. The clearing and the fairy’s casket were gone.

Roman led them in a strange looping path. After the third turn Logan opened his mouth to ask where they were going, but then he heard the screech that he associated exclusively with Roman’s house.

“Morning, Jax!” shouted Roman as they stepped out of the trees into his yard. Logan eyed the turkey vulture on the fence warily. Roman insisted he was friendly, but Logan didn’t want to test it.

Jax screeched, more agitated than Logan had ever seen him; he hopped back and forth along the fence, shrieking and ruffling his own feathers.

Logan heard the faint sound of something shattering inside Roman’s house, and then the front door flew open.

Logan stopped short.

He’d never see Ms. Gage look so terrified. She was pale as cream, her hair sticking up like she’d been pulling on it, and she was still dressed in the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday.

“ _Get in here!”_  she hollered, voice sharp as broken glass, and all three of them rushed to obey.

Roman held the iron gate open for Logan – who tried not to twitch when Roman shut it behind him – and then led them up the front steps into his house.

Logan immediately began to feel itchy, in the way most fairy-repelling charms made him. It seemed like every surface in the house had a bowl or a plate set on it with salt or shamrocks or clear water in it.

Ms. Gage was on the phone, and as soon as she saw them she pointed vehemently at Patton and Logan. They came closer and she pressed the speakerphone

“Um- Hello?” said Logan.

Rather than respond, the voice on the other end of line – which Logan instantly recognized as his mother – burst into tears.

“Patty, honey?” came Mrs. Waller’s voice.

“I’m here, Mama,” replied Patton.

“They’re all three here,” said Ms. Gage, and she sounded exhausted. It occurred to Logan that she probably hadn’t slept – he’d be surprised if any of their parents had.

“Wait, Mrs. Waller is at our house?” said Logan.

“It’s a three way call,” said Ms. Gage, who was actually starting to look a little unsteady on her feet.

“We’ll be right there, Logan, we’re coming to get you,” said Dad.

“You too, Patton, don’t go anywhere; listen to May, okay?”

“Yeah, Pop, of course,” replied Patton.

After another minute of assurances of love and thanks, their parents hung up. Roman had walked closer, and was looking at his grandmother with concern.

“Mamaw, are you okay?”

She didn’t respond for a moment, and then took a couple shuffling steps towards them.

And then, in a move Logan was entirely unprepared for, she reached out and gathered all three of them into an embrace.

Logan flailed a bit – this was rather out of character for Roman’s grandmother. She hugged Roman, certainly, but usually such affection was reserved exclusively  _for_  Roman. She had never been so demonstrative with Logan or Patton.

It took Logan another second to realize she was shaking.

He hugged her back.

After a long moment she took a deep breath and released them all, and when Patton and Roman pointedly looked away from her shiny eyes and tear-tracked face, Logan followed their lead.

When Logan and Patton’s parents arrived, with Thomas in tow, they all piled into Ms. Gage’s tiny living room, jammed into her old, oddly colored, mismatched furniture. Roman’s cat took up residence in his grandmother’s lap and purred so loud the whole room could hear it. Mom and Mrs. Waller used this as an excuse to ban Ms. Gage from her own kitchen, making tea and lemonade and coffee and just generally fretting over everyone.

Thomas had tackled Logan the second he’d seen him, plastering himself to Logan’s side and had refused to move in the meantime.

The four of them were crammed into the love seat between the two couches, which Logan quickly realized was to keep him, Roman, and Patton within arms reach of everyone. Whether is was to squeeze their hands, touch their faces or ruffled their hair, nobody stopped touching them for very long.

Logan wondered how long is would take for their families to settle enough that they could go to their respective beds and get some decent sleep, but he found that, sandwiched between his brother and his best friends and surrounded by family, he managed to fall asleep just fine where he was.

* * *

_He’s coming._

A heartbeat, a question mark.

_He’s brought friends._

_More friends, friends for you, you have company, our brother._

“-a long time- before she was born-”

Roman?

_How strange, how odd, how curious, one of them-_

_-One of them is like us, how queer, how peculiar._

_The little golden one is afraid, how precious, how quaint_

“-name is Logan, and this is Patton-”

Names, their names – Roman, Logan, Patton.

_Are all humans so careless now with their names, we wonder?_

_We wonder, we wonder, will they wake you?_

_Will they bring you back to us?_

_Brother, brother. Will you wake?_

_Will you come back?_

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come yell about sanders sides with me at tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com


End file.
